The Hanging Scene Stays!
by chasingmavericks
Summary: Shawn's life hangs in the balance, literally. Tag to the Musical.
1. Hanging by a Moment

**Tag to the Musical. Spoilers for that episode and any episodes before are fair game.**

 **Author's notes: I am not a fan of musicals, but I enjoyed this episode. If you haven't watched it, I recommend it! I felt it was slightly unrealistic when Shawn was hanged and was completely fine afterward. Have you ever seen the 3rd Back to the Future? Well Michael J. Fox was** ** _accidentally_** **hanged in that scene and apparently, it was not good! Poor guy lost consciousness, oops! So, here's my take on what could have/should have/would have happened if I was involved in the production.**

 **Disclaimer: I certainly was not involved in the production of Psych nor will I ever be, unfortunately.**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

"You're losing it, Shawn!" Yang yelled toward an incredulous Shawn, still perched atop the stage prop. "You don't even know you were followed here!" She waved her knife with emphasis on every word. Shawn looked down at her in utter frustration. Yang was uncontrollable, psychotic, and driving Shawn crazy. And he had _trusted_ her. What could she possibly mean by "followed"?

"What are you _talking_ about?!" He clenched his fists in front of him. As he did, a cloaked figure dropped next to him. "Holy-uh!" was all Shawn could say as he was shoved roughly to the side. "Oh Gah!" He ground out as the figure, who all but manhandled him, forced Shawn's body close to his. Shawn thought this was a strange position to attack someone in, but immediately realized his attacker's intentions as he saw the thin blue rope pass over his eyes momentarily.

 _This is so not good._

Shawn managed to slip his fingers between the rope and his vulnerable neck. "Ah!" Shawn involuntarily yelled as he was pushed to the other side of the landing. He was prepared to faceplant but was caught by the impromptu leash. His fingers continued to struggle for purchase on the thin fabric encircling his neck. However, the rope tightened and he found himself unable to draw in a breath. The rope dug into his skin and he wanted nothing more than to call out to his best friend located in the side room. Before Shawn could attempt to subdue his attacker, the man jumped over the side railing, still holding the loose rope. Shawn was momentarily confused but discovered first-hand the reason for his attacker's plummet.

The rope tightened to levels Shawn thought impossible as the rope lifted him off the ground. His attacker landed and Shawn's ascent abruptly halted and he was left dangling over twenty feet in the air. He kicked his legs wildly in panic. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't _breathe!_ That is the single most important part of life and he _couldn't_ do it! His stomach somersaulted as his weight dropped only to be stopped mere inches from the ground and hauled back up again. The sudden weight shift made his already pounding head feel like it would explode at any moment. The skin around his neck was already beyond bruised and raw. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a very blurry Gus making his way down the stairs. Below him, he could vaguely hear a fight ensuing between his attacker and Yang, but he quickly realized he didn't care.

 _He was dying._

It had only been about twenty seconds since he was swept off the ground but for Shawn, it might as well had been hours. He no longer had the strength to struggle. He reached behind him blindly, feeling for whatever was keeping the rope in place but gave up as the black dots dancing at the edge of his vision fought to consume him. His fingers fought weakly to separate the rope from his abused neck. The crushing pain it had caused was unbearable and his lungs were screaming for air. The worst part was Shawn knew it wasn't his lungs' lack of air that would kill him. Instead, it was his brain's lack of oxygen that would.

This was confirmed as he felt his heart beat slow and a cacophony of pins and needles overcome his arms and legs. _C'mon buddy, you gotta do something to save me._ Shawn's life was _literally_ hanging in the balance, and he was helpless to stop it. As the darkness continued to envelop his rapidly dulling senses and aching body, he briefly thought of his father. They were finally on good terms, despite the argument about Shawn contacting Yang. Overall, they had become a good team. _And now that is about to be taken away._ He didn't even want to consider what Gus would think. _He has to watch it. Oh my God._ Shawn wished he could make himself invisible. At least that way he'd spare his best friend the pain and nightmares of watching him die. _And Jules._ Shawn realized he'd never see her again. As he lost his grip on the last fibers of consciousness, he only thought of her. The last thing his oxygen-deprived mind registered was the feeling of weightlessness.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Gus opened the loft door only to be confronted with the most terrifying sight of his life. And that was saying something because Shawn had gotten them into some terrifying situations over the years. But this...this was on an entirely new level. His best friend was hanging- _hanging!_ -more than twenty feet in the air, struggling wildly as he fought to escape the suffocating grasp of the rope. He immediately began descending the stairs but his feet felt like lead. He could not compel them to move any faster despite the fact that his best friend was being _murdered_ right before his eyes.

He could hear Yang and the cloaked figure fighting but that was not his priority. He needed to get the hell down these stairs and save Shawn! The stairs were neverending. It had been over thirty seconds since he started his descent and still had several flights to go. He looked up briefly and saw Shawn was now barely moving. His fingers lazily pulled on the rope and his eyes started to close. That was all the motivation Gus needed to sprint the rest of the way down, nearly breaking an ankle when he heard Yang yell and he glanced up to see her slash the rope holding his best friend captive. He looked up in horror as Shawn's limp form was now controlled by gravity. He didn't see him land but he heard it. Oh, he heard it all right. _Can anyone survive that?_ His heart was beating faster than his feet were moving as he sprinted up the stairs to where Shawn's involuntary acrobatics landed him.

"Shawn!" Gus's eyes fell on his best friend. His fingers were still positioned between the rope and his neck but were no longer moving. Gus collapsed next to him and immediately untangled Shawn from his captor. _He's still not moving._ Careful not to upset any possible unknown injuries, Gus positioned Shawn's head so his airway would be opened as much as possible. _As long as the rope didn't crush it._ He could see Shawn's chest rising and falling shallowly and much too fast. Knowing that Shawn needed more help than he could offer, he called 911.

Within seconds, Gus positioned himself over his childhood friend again. "Shawn! Can you hear me? Come on buddy!" He pleaded. He winced as he looked down at Shawn's neck. It was an angry red mixed with the beginnings of bone-deep bruises. _How does he get himself into this?_ "Shawn!" Gus was surprised when Shawn inhaled sharply in response or at least _attempted_ to inhale. Gus could tell from the strangled cough that escaped seconds later that not much oxygen had entered Shawn's lungs. Shawn's eyes were screwed up in pain but shot open in panic when he realized he couldn't breathe. Gus noticed the red spots standing out in the whites of Shawn's eyes. _This was so not good._

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

When Shawn opened his eyes, he truly thought he was dead. This thought dissipated as the pain radiated throughout his entire body, gaining in strength until he attempted to suck in a lungful of air. When barely any came, he coughed and reached toward his neck for the rope that was no longer there. He could hear someone shouting at him but his necessity to breathe outweighed the shouting's importance. Everything was blurry and the pounding in his head beat in a steady rhythm with his too-slow heart. He didn't know how he was awake, but he knew he hurt a lot less when he wasn't. He allowed himself to slip back into the merciful embrace of darkness.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Gus watched as Shawn's eyes slipped shut again. He felt completely helpless and it terrified him. His only saving grace was the sirens that sounded in the distance. "Hang on, buddy. Help is coming. Don't you dare give up on me now!" As he heard the doors to the theatre open, he noticed that Shawn's chest was no longer rising or falling. "Shawn! Hey!" He grabbed Shawn's upper arm and squeezed but elicited no response. He looked at the approaching paramedics in panic. "Hurry! He's not breathing!" That seemed to make them pick up the pace, and before he knew it, Gus was being shoved aside. He tried to see what was happening to his friend but a swarm of white uniforms surrounded him and jumbled medical words floated through the empty stage.

"Need to intubate."

"Ready one. Two set?"

"Set."

"Tube in. Compress."

"Breath sounds in both lungs. What's his pulse at? BP?"

"Pulse 52 and weak. BP 80/60 and falling."

"Okay, we need to move! Any chance of a spinal injury? What happened?"

Gus was watching a paramedic artificially pump air into Shawn's body. It did not seem right that Shawn was this still.

"What happened?"

The other paramedic's voice cut through the fog in Gus's mind.

"Uhhh, he was...hanged. Then dropped about twenty feet. I...I didn't see him land. He woke up for a few seconds...I think."

"Okay, spinal precautions everyone. Howard, check for other injuries. Let's move, people!" The head paramedic all but yelled at his team of two paramedics and three firefighters were performing various tasks to prep Shawn for transport. A soft neck brace was placed around Shawn's neck which Gus was thankful for instead of the harsh C-collar. However, he still felt gut-wrenching sympathy for Shawn. Within minutes they had expertly placed Shawn on a backboard and were carefully carrying him down the stairs with one paramedic still pushing air into his friend's lungs. Gus looked at the still figure of Yang. Two firefighters had bent down to check on her but at the shake of one's head, Gus knew she was gone. He looked away and continued out the door behind the herd of paramedics.

"BP is crashing, get another line in him!" The head paramedic yelled as they were loading Shawn into the waiting ambulance. The ambulance was filled with three people all doing something to tend to Shawn's rapidly diminishing health. Gus attempted to join but was held back by a fireman. Gus felt his heart clench. He _needed_ to be with Shawn.

"He's in the best hands possible. You can follow behind and meet him at the hospital." The fireman said with a comforting hand on Gus's shoulder. Gus looked longingly at the Nike's-the only part of Shawn he could see-before the ambulance doors closed and the siren began to wail. He jumped into the Blueberry and sped off after his friend.

Gus had never gone more than 5 miles per hour over the speed limit in his life, but now he was going 85 in a 55 and was extremely thankful when the exit for the hospital so graciously appeared. He skidded to a halt behind the still-wailing ambulance and shot out of the driver's seat. He saw a rush of nurses and doctors exit the building and swarm the arrived ambulance. _Shawn would make a joke about zombies and how this would make a great movie scene._ The double doors opened, revealing the faces of several tense paramedics. One of them held two IV bags in the air as Shawn was transferred to the ground. Another was still steadily pumping air into his system as they all ran as a group toward the emergency room doors. Gus only caught a glimpse of his best friend, but immediately noticed something that made his recent lunch want to be reintroduced to the outside world. Shawn's shirt had been ripped open and Gus immediately recognized the two AED strips taped to Shawn's chest. Gus was frozen in the spot as Shawn vanished behind the automatic doors. Gus knew even if he went in there after him he'd have to wait in the waiting room for God knows how long and he was not going to do that alone.

As much as he wished he didn't, he had some phone calls to make.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 **This was harder to write than I thought, but I stuck with it. I love writing Shawn's character, and frankly, being hanged makes that impossible! But luckily, there's more to come if that is what you want!**

 **Reviews make me smile**


	2. Fix You

**If you're wondering where the title came from, it is what Gus says at the end of the Musical when they are presenting Z with the story idea.**

 **Anyway, continuing on...If I make any mistakes pertaining to what transpired before the hanging scene in the episode, that's my bad. Just consider it a slight AU then ;)**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own em, just using em**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Henry Spencer liked to think of himself as a patient man. Heck, he lived with Shawn for seventeen years and is now the kid's boss. He always tried to look at situations with a calm, observant demeanor but Shawn always found a way to test him. Working with a psychopath that tried to kill his mother and himself? Henry could not believe his son at the moment. The case had taken a turn for the worst as Yang escaped and left them with more questions than answers. He only hoped his son could clean up his mess before things got any worse or anyone else got hurt.

He resigned himself to attempting to relax in his own home. He had some projects that needed to be done and despite the current case, it was the liaison's day off. However, he had a nagging feeling in his gut that would not let him get anything done, especially after his son left with Gus following Henry's slight blowup at him. Despite disapproving of Shawn's current method and arguing with him, he was only filled with dread over the possibilities and repercussions of working with such a dangerous person. In other words, he wasn't angry at Shawn; he was concerned for his son's safety. He considered calling the Chief to ask if he could help in any way and even pulled out his phone to dial. Before he could press any buttons, his phone rang and a familiar name flashed on the device. The nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach returned.

Henry answered hesitantly. "Gus?"

A pause. "Mr. Spencer. It's Gus."

"Yes, I know it's you. That's why I said your name." Henry rolled his eyes but the rigidness in his posture remained. Gus's tone was tight and strained.

"Shawn and I were at the old theatre and found Yang. Um...something happened."

Just mentioning that Shawn was in the same room as an escaped Yang caused Henry's legs to feel weak. He leaned on the kitchen counter before continuing.

"What did she do? What happened?" He attempted to remain calm but his voice was increasing in volume and worry.

"Yang didn't hurt Shawn. She...she um..."

"What did she do?!" Henry all but yelled.

"She saved him!"

"What are you talking about? Tell me everything that happened. Saved him from what? Is Shawn okay?" Henry placed the palm of his hand over his forehead. _What the hell did the kid get himself into now?_

"We were followed. I was in another room but I heard Shawn yell and when I came out, he was hanging from a rope. Yang was fighting with his assailant and the guy was holding the rope that was holding Shawn. When he jumped over the edge of the building prop, it pulled Shawn up over twenty feet. Shawn got his hands underneath the rope and was struggling as I made my way down but it wasn't enough."

"What?! How was he hanging? Is he _okay_?" Henry was aware he still didn't know the condition of his son and the fact that Gus was the one telling him could only mean one thing. _This is not good._

"The rope was...around his neck. It was probably over thirty seconds he was up there. I think he...he passed out and Yang cut the rope and he...he fell that twenty feet. I got to him and called 911. He was barely breathing and they rushed him to Cottage Hospital. You need to come over here, _please_." Gus said, obviously breathless. Henry felt a pang of sympathy that Gus had to deal with this situation alone. The worry for his son ratcheted up to extreme levels as he swiped his keys off the counter and headed out the door.

"I'll be there in less than ten minutes. Call me if anything happens before then." Henry said before disconnecting.

Henry was well aware of the dangers of strangulation, even for a short period of time. As an officer, he dealt with several domestic violence cases and he soon found that the trauma of being strangled, or in this case, hanged, could be deadly even weeks later. There were so many complications that could arise due to the pressure on the arteries and veins and the lack of blood flow to the brain. Henry couldn't bear to think of his son being subjected to any of that.

 _"He fell that twenty feet."_

 _You never do things halfway do you, Shawn?_ Henry realized that the hanging could be the least of their worries if Shawn really did fall that great of a distance. Internal injuries, broken bones, head trauma...all were very real possibilities that could jeopardize Shawn's chances of survival. Henry attempted to dispel the negative thoughts as he made his way to the hospital. None of those thoughts would help his son right now. He just hoped that those in charge of helping him were doing everything in their power to put him back together.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Dr. Lauren Hansen was the youngest child of five siblings. Her four older brothers never regarded her as a younger sister, instead, she was fair game as one of them. Despite being roughed up from time to time and being at a disadvantage because of her age and size, she soon found that growing up underneath them molded her into who she is today. When each brother, year after year, enlisted in the military, she found herself doing the same thing the second she graduated high school. She was never sure what she wanted to do once in the military, but within weeks she found her passion as a medic. She completed two tours in Afghanistan as a field medic and anytime she wasn't outside saving her comrades' lives, she was studying anything she could get her hands on about medicine, surgeons, and what it takes to become a professional doctor. After completing her tours, she attended medical school to pursue her passion as a trauma surgeon. She was born to save lives.

It was safe to say she had seen her share of terror and heartbreak overseas. She knew it hardened her and every time she was faced with a new challenge, she never once doubted her abilities. So, when her newest trauma victim was rushed into the E.R., Dr. Hansen was calm, cool, and collected. Years of training and working under intense pressure made her this way. She was a professional in every sense of the word. But after taking one glance at her patient, this unflappable woman had to catch herself in a moment of weakness.

 _Mickey._

She stared down at the man on the backboard which was still placed on top of the gurney. They were preparing to transfer him in 3, 2, 1...

 _It's not him. Focus Hansen._

Within seconds, her reverie was broken and replaced with sheer determination. She spoke to the head paramedic without glancing at him, all of her focus was on her patient, whose health appeared to be rapidly diminishing. "Report."

The head paramedic spoke up. "Hanging, approximately forty seconds and then he was dropped about twenty feet. When we arrived we had to intubate. BP and heart rate were low and decreasing. We had two IVs placed in him. Once in the bus, he crashed once. We defibrillated and got him back on the first try. His BP is holding at 90/60 and pulse remains weak and slow. His friend said he thinks he regained consciousness once for a brief period."

"Thank you." Hansen stated while grabbing her penlight. She lifted her patient's right eyelid, immediately noticing the red spots that covered the whites of his eye. She repeated the process with the left. "Pupil response sluggish, petechial hemorrhage present in both eyes." She nodded to the paramedic manually pumping air into her patient as a hospital nurse joined and then took over. Hansen knew she couldn't examine her patient's neck without being certain there were no spinal injuries.

"I need X-ray in here stat. C-spine, chest, and head. Any other injuries to report?"

"Multiple contusions throughout his right side and back. Possible right ankle fracture."

"X-ray get a film of that ankle and the rest of that leg to be safe."

She looked at her patient as the X-ray unit invaded the space. In a few minutes, she'd know exactly what she was dealing with so she could repair the damage. She was not going to let what happened to Mickey happen to the prone man just a few feet away from her. The resemblance between the two of them was striking. She was lost in her thoughts when the technician interrupted her and placed the film in the lightbox. She studied the film carefully, counting each vertebra individually twice, not believing that the man did not have a single break or fracture present in them. She was happy to note that there was no skull fracture present but based on his pupil dilation, it was certain he had a mild, if not severe, concussion. She felt her heart sink when she viewed the chest X-ray. It was evident his lungs were already beginning to fill with fluid, which is one of the many complications with a case such as a hanging. She needed to get his lungs cleared and trachea healed so the poor man could breathe again. Lastly, she looked at the right leg X-ray, inwardly wincing when she saw the clear ankle break. Once set, it would heal with time. However, she saw that her patient's femur was also broken and would require surgery. _All of his weight must have landed on that right leg._ She noted it was a miracle his knee appeared to avoid damage. Further tests would confirm her theory.

She approached her patient once again and carefully removed the padded collar, exposing the abused skin beneath it. The skin on his neck was terribly swollen, raw, and bruised. Gently, she felt along his trachea beneath his skin, noting the irregularities where the bruising was most severe. Knowing everything she needed to start her repairs on her patient, she looked up at the various nurses and doctors surrounding them. "Okay, OR room 2 stat, full team. Get penicillin pumping through one of his IVs. I'm not going to let his lungs develop pneumonitis if I can help it. Get him prepped and meet me there ASAP." She ordered her team before going to prep herself for surgery.

Within minutes, she was ready to begin saving her patient, who was now facing her on the operating table.

"Do we have an ID of our patient?" She asked, taking in the man's features. If it were a different situation, she'd note how he was actually quite handsome. Despite all he had been through, his hair looked like it had been styled less than an hour ago. She'd remember to ask him about it once he was awake.

"His name is Shawn Spencer. Age 35."

"Alright then, Shawn. Let's do this." With a look of unconquerable determination, she began her operation.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Two hours had passed by the time Henry arrived until now. He sat next to his son's best friend, whose knee continued to bounce up and down for the entirety of their wait. Henry truly felt bad for Gus, but his own worry for his son's wellbeing got in the way of his ability to empathize at the moment. The silence was killing him, so he spoke up, startling the man next to him.

"Have you contacted the station?"

Gus continued to stare at the tiles beneath his feet. "Yes, I called the Chief. Lassiter and Juliet were out in the field chasing down leads on Z." He took a breath. "I was able to speak to Juliet while Lassiter was driving them to their next location. She sounded scared."

"No surprise there." Henry replied flatly.

"She wants to be here but they are in the middle of the investigation. I told her I'd call as soon as we have news."

"Yeah, whenever that will be." Henry said, obviously irritated at the hospital's lack of care when it came to updating him on his son. But, as soon as the words left his mouth the doors swung open, revealing a surgeon still wearing scrubs and a mask. The surgeon approached them and removed the mask. Henry immediately noticed the way she carried herself as well as her steely expression. "Shawn Spencer?" She asked calmly.

Henry and Gus nodded simultaneously. "I'm Dr. Hansen and I took care of Shawn. Please, come with me."

They followed her to a side room, obviously a room reserved for giving families news about their loved ones, both good and bad. Henry prayed to every god that they would be receiving the former. "How is he?" Henry asked in his typical gruff tone. Hidden beneath the surface, however, was the tone of a father worried about his only son.

"He's stable, for now." Both Henry and Gus were relieved by the first statement but tensed at the "for now" addition. "He arrived here unable to breathe on his own due to a crushed trachea. That was our first priority in surgery. Although somewhat uncommon, I placed a stent inside his trachea. This will keep the airway open while his body heals and I didn't want to take any chances with the swelling that will increase over the next forty-eight hours." She looked up to make sure they were following her. "He also has a serious concussion, but I was relieved to find no skull fracture or any damage to his spine. However, he broke his ankle and femur." Gus's hand flew to his chest in shock. Henry closed his eyes and shook his head in sadness. A broken femur was rare, extremely painful, and could become complicated. "I repaired his femur surgically. His ankle was a clean break and was set and casted. Both of the breaks could have been much worse. Right now, my main concern is the fluid in his lungs. I have him on penicillin to flush out any possible infection but the next twenty-four hours are crucial. We are also monitoring him for any signs of blood clots, which is a possible complication of his situation. Also, his vitals crashed on the way here and the paramedics had to defibrillate, but once he arrived his vitals leveled off."

"When can we see him?" Henry asked.

"He's being settled in a recovery room in the ICU. You will be able to see him within the hour. I have to warn you, he is currently in a medically induced coma and on a ventilator. It's intimidating to see, but it will help him heal, especially until I am able to remove the stent. They always say that people in comas can hear, so I encourage you to talk to him. In all honesty, that's how I operate. It's something I learned before I came here. Anyway, I need to get cleaned up. I will be in to check on him periodically. A nurse will take you to him when he is ready." Henry and Gus both gave her their thanks before returning to the waiting room. Henry wasn't sure what it was about her, but he liked this doctor a lot. She was no-nonsense, confident, and handled herself well in uncomfortable situations. And that part about talking to her patients while operating? _I need to get her full story._

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Just as Hansen promised, a nurse came to get them within the hour and led them back to Shawn's room. Due to the "rules" of the ICU, both of them could only stay for around ten minutes. It was getting late in the day and the doctor promised to call if anything changed, which she stated was highly unlikely for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. In the morning he would hopefully be transferred to a regular room and they would be free to stay for as long as the like. Regardless, Henry and Gus both took advantage of the ten minutes to visit Shawn.

Dr. Hansen was right. The amount of machinery hooked up to Shawn was intimidating. But, both put on a brave face and approached the bed. Shawn looked terrible, for lack of a better description, but it was true. He did not look like the whimsical, vibrant Shawn they both knew and loved. He looked weak and pale. Henry wanted nothing more than to scoop his boy up and take him home. But unfortunately, this wasn't Little League baseball when Shawn scraped his knee sliding into second, and it would take more than a band-aid and a kiss from his mom to fix it. _This was serious._

Gus shook his head at his best friend. He flashed back to visiting Shawn after he had been shot. But this was different. Back then, Shawn was awake and joking with him and now, he was still and unconscious. He wanted to tell him to suck it up and stop messing around, but one look at the shell housing his best friend told him this wasn't a joke. It was more than real.

They both spoke to Shawn for the short time they could visit. At first, it felt awkward, but it quickly became more natural. After feeling helpless for so long, they were thankful for the opportunity to do something that might be able to help Shawn. Of course, Shawn didn't respond. Gus managed to note that this was the longest he's never been interrupted by his friend. That earned a small smile from Henry behind his heartbroken demeanor. He placed a hand on Gus's shoulder in silent thanks. Gus stepped out soon after to give him a minute alone with his son.

Henry stroked Shawn's hair, careful to avoid the convoluted wires and tubes snaking out from various parts of his body. "Sorry I yelled, kid. I know deep down you know I only act that way because I worry about you. And look where that got me..." He took Shawn's hand in his own. "Shawn, you need to be okay. Not just for me, but for Gus, and Juliet, and your mom, heck, even Lassiter and the Chief. It's been less than a day and it's already way too quiet without you, son. I'm sorry I can't stay but I will be back first thing in the morning." Henry sighed and stood up, placing Shawn's hand against his side again. Henry leaned down and kissed Shawn gently on the head. "Love you, kid." He turned away as he felt a rogue tear escape his eye and fall from his cheek.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 **This story is kind of taking on a life of its own. I think Dr. Hansen is kickass, I hope you enjoyed her character buildup? Maybe? She will get Shawn healed up for us. Reviews will help her do that!**

 **Really, let me know what you think. This tag to an episode has grown a bit more than I expected but oh well! I have some other story ideas brewing but this is keeping me occupied for now.**


	3. Second Chances

**Thank you so much for your reviews. I seriously appreciate every single one of them. I know you are supposed to write for your own enjoyment but the fact that people actually get enjoyment in reading something I wrote is still mind-blowing. This story has taken on a life of its own but I am rolling with it if that is okay with you.**

 **Disclaimer: I own the computer in which I am typing, but I do not own the characters in which I type about.**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Henry didn't know how long he had been staring at the ceiling of his bedroom and to be honest, he didn't actually care. He glanced at the clock to his left and sighed, _3:47am_ , an ungodly hour to be awake. Unfortunately for him, sleep had evaded him ever since he was sent home from the hospital. He wanted to be near his son. He _needed_ to be there for him. The only thing that stopped him from being on the receiving end of an armed escort out was Dr. Hansen's calm reassurance that nothing would be changing for at minimum the first day or two, and it had only been about half a day since Shawn was brought in. She encouraged him to get some sleep mostly for his own good. Henry was aware that she was perceptive enough to know that when Shawn was moved to a regular room, Henry would be taking up permanent residence beside him. In other words, being sent home was for his benefit, not Shawn's.

He could feel sleep pulling at him despite the knot that had taken up permanent residence in his gut. He wasn't sure when it happened, but the blissful embrace of sleep finally consumed him. However, when it only felt like minutes had passed, he was rudely awakened by his cellphone ringing. He guessed it would be Madeleine, since he had left her a voicemail earlier while she was still asleep due to the time difference. However, one look at the phone screen told him it wasn't, and the knot in his stomach tightened exponentially. _Maybe it's nothing._ He pressed the answer button, attempting to make his "Hello?" sound like it wasn't laced with pure anxiety. _They wouldn't be calling if it was nothing._

"Mr. Spencer? This is Cottage Hospital. We have an update on your son, Shawn Spencer, and we need you need to come down here immediately."

Henry noticeably tensed at the tone of her voice. If it was good news, she would have said so, but she didn't, so that could only mean the update was bad. "What...what's happening?" he asked shakily.

"I cannot give specific details over the phone, but I can tell you he was taken back into surgery about thirty minutes ago. As soon as you get here, we can explain everything."

"Um, okay...okay, but is he okay? I mean, he's _going_ to be okay, right? Nothing was supposed to change this soon. I thought..." His voice faded and Henry knew he sounded like he was panicking, which was fair, because he absolutely _was_ panicking. All of his training on the force seemed to dissipate as his mind raced around the possible scenarios that could have gone wrong. _What did they miss?_

As he found himself once again racing toward the hospital for the second time in twelve hours, Henry wondered if he should be calling anyone. There is no training, no guidelines, no "normal" in this situation. There is no "right choice" here. Henry didn't know if he could live with himself if he called Gus, only to greet him at the hospital with the worst news possible. He felt the same for Juliet and Madeleine. No matter what awaited him at the hospital, he wasn't ready to place that burden of unknowing on others. Once he knew definitively what was going on he would make the necessary calls.

He pulled into Cottage Hospital, parking his massive truck haphazardly and without care as he jumped down from the cab and ran toward the entrance, not even taking the time to lock it. He arrived at the front desk with a breathless "Henry Spencer for Shawn Spencer. I...I just got a call."

"Yes, sir. I am the nurse that called you. Here," She gestured behind him, "let's go take a seat." Henry turned and saw the entire waiting room was empty and the wall clock said it was 4:30am. _Too late for drunks and too early for commuter accidents._ He sat down on the familiar vinyl seat against the wall and she sat across from him.

"Please..." He said desperately, and still slightly breathless, to his dismay, "Tell me my son is alright."

She looked at him sympathetically, her dark skin reflecting the synthetic lighting in the room, "He has been in surgery, which, if everything goes smoothly, will save him." Henry looked at her, slightly confused.

"I thought the first surgery did that job. What changed so suddenly?"

"Well, Dr. Hansen can go into more specifics but in my opinion, it was her quick thinking and persistence that even gave us the chance to save him...again. A few hours ago, Dr. Hansen was reviewing Shawn's X-rays and checking in on him. He was stable and nothing had changed, as expected. However, something was bothering Dr. Hansen. She was checking his neck and kept reviewing that X-ray and his head. She consulted the head surgeon on call, Dr. Peter Fong, who also reviewed the scans but dismissed her concerns. He is technically her supervisor and she _technically_ should have listened to his advice, but instead she ordered an emergency CT scan for Shawn, much to Dr. Fong's disproval. There was even an argument between the two...he said she was wasting resources and doing more harm than good but she wouldn't have it. Once Shawn's CT scan was complete, Fong was at a loss for words and Hansen was calling for an OR room to be prepped immediately."

"What did they find?" Henry asked, feeling like he was watching a thriller movie right at the climax, except this was different because the plot revolved around his son's dire health and unfortunately, he couldn't fast forward through the parts he didn't like.

"A blood clot was 98% formed in Shawn's carotid artery. Any longer, even an hour longer, and he would have had a stroke."

Henry exhaled sharply, placing his hand behind his head and shaking his head in disbelief. _A stroke. As if the kid didn't have enough things to deal with._ "But they found it in time, right? He should be okay?" Henry realized that "okay" was a loosely used term concerning Shawn.

"As I said before, as long as this surgery goes smoothly, he should suffer no ill-effects from the clot. I'm sure Dr. Hansen will be keeping an extremely close eye on him for the next week, however." She smiled slightly, her brown eyes twinkling, obviously filled with pride over the actions of her colleague.

"I don't think Shawn or I will have any problem with that." He returned her smile as she got up. She placed one hand on his shoulder. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. As soon as I have an update, you will be the first to know."

"Thank you so much." Henry replied, meaning every part of it. After she returned to the front desk, Henry relaxed slightly on the chair. _Too early to call anyone, too early for breakfast, too early to visit Shawn. It's just too early._ However, he got an idea.

"Excuse me," he said as he approached the familiar nurse, "Is there a computer I could use for a few minutes?" She pointed him in the right direction and he was soon launching Google on the desktop. He had been wanting to do some research since yesterday but obviously never had the time. _No time like the present._ He thought as he typed a name into the search bar.

" _Dr. Lauren Hansen Santa Barbara"_

What he found shocked him to his core. He thought he couldn't be in any more awe of the woman who had now saved his son's life twice, but he was very, very wrong. Suddenly, everything about her made sense.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Dr. Lauren Hansen looked at her patient as he was wheeled out of the OR (again) and into a recovery room. She removed her surgical mask and headed out the door to clean up. Once out in the hall, she bumped into an uncomfortable looking Dr. Peter Fong. She eyed him but did not say anything.

"Look Doctor..." He began, "I'm sorry about what happened. I thought..."

"You thought what? I was being too cautious? Overprotective? Caught in the past?" She snapped sharply, but quickly deflated and put up her steady countenance in defense. "Sorry...it's just been a long day." She said honestly.

"No, don't apologize. I was wrong. I won't doubt you again." He gave her a nod and allowed her to pass by him.

"You never should have." She said, mostly to herself and unsure if Fong heard; either way, she didn't care. She cleaned herself up and peaked into her patient's room, satisfied that he appeared to be settled and comfortable, before making her way to the waiting room. It almost felt like Groundhog Day to her as she approached the lone, worn-out man in the waiting area again. "Decided to come alone this time?"

Henry hadn't seen her approach, mostly due to his tiredness and the never-ending thoughts racing about his mind, but once he heard her he jumped out of his seat and looked at her in astonishment. Without thinking, he stepped forward and embraced her, which she returned, knowing how much he needed it and in all honesty, she needed it too. He pulled back awkwardly. "Is he...?" He winced.

"He's doing fine. As good as could be expected. We took care of the clot and have him on a small dose of blood thinners. We will continually monitor him for any more clots, but he is young and I am hoping that was the end of it."

Henry sighed in relief and looked at her. "I'm...sorry...about that." He said, gesturing to the impromptu hug that took place seconds earlier.

"Don't apologize, Mr. Spencer. You have been through a lot." She said sympathetically.

"Not nearly as much as you have."

"Oh, that thing with Dr. Fong was-"

"That's not what I am talking about."

"Oh." She looked at him, unsure how to process what he was saying, although he hadn't directly said it.

"All I can say is, you are an incredible person. You have sacrificed so much and this country owes you everything but instead here you are, giving back everything and saving lives. I cannot tell you how much I admire you and I can't even begin to imagine what you went through. I apologize...I did some research."

"No need to apologize..." She said, although evidently caught off guard. "Um...after reviewing Shawn's X-rays and visiting him, I just had that same feeling I had back then, and Shawn and him look so much alike...I knew I had to act or we would lose him. I wasn't going to let that happen again."

"It wasn't your fault, you did everything you could have back then."

"I try to tell myself that, but I always wonder 'what if?'" She said sadly.

"Well, if things went differently, it's possible you wouldn't be here, saving people, saving _my son,_ every day. You need to remember that my only child is alive because of you."

"Thank you, Mr. Spencer."

"And, if this is inappropriate I sincerely apologize, but you remind me of myself and I know if I were you I'd need to hear it. I know you beat yourself up about what happened, but Michael would be proud of you." He gave her a soft smile, feeling wetness behind his eyes as he looked at the woman responsible for saving his son, who held so many demons behind her.

"Thank...thank you. I know he would." She stood up just as the first tear began to fall, but she shook it off and returned to her steely demeanor. "You will be able to see Shawn soon. I'm looking forward to actually meeting him. I can tell you care a great deal about him." She walked back behind the double doors as Henry still sat, debating if he should call anyone yet. He would have to tell Gus the whole story and he would rather do it in person.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Gus was not happy to be pulled from sleep at 6:00am, but he remembered the circumstances and flew out of bed in record time. Henry had given him a quick update and told him he wanted to talk to him more in person and also visit Shawn. Gus was out the door at 6:15 and arriving at the hospital soon after. He approached the desk and she pointed him in the direction of Shawn's room. He pulled up a chair next to a _very_ tired looking Henry and a _very_ unconscious looking Shawn, who now had gauze covering just below his right ear. Henry began explaining everything quietly to Gus, although not even a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerine plant could wake Shawn up.

Gus leaned back in disbelief. "So, because of her Shawn is alive."

"Yep."

"Wow. She is admirable."

"That's only half."

"Say what now?" Gus leaned forward again.

"She served two tours in Afghanistan as a field medic. She's the youngest in her family with four older brothers. She was serving alongside her brother Michael, who was older than her by two years, during her second tour. According to the reports I read, there was an ambush. Her brother pushed two of his comrades to safety but was caught in the crossfire when a grenade went off near him. He was completely out in the open and Dr. Hansen risked her life to carry him back to cover. Once he was being taken care of in a hospital, they insisted he only had a concussion, bruising, and some deep cuts from shrapnel. She wasn't convinced and did everything in her power to get him taken to a more advanced hospital. She wanted an MRI for his chest and abdomen but they dismissed her. He died two days later from internal blast injuries. He was awarded the Purple Heart and she was given a Medal of Valor."

Gus was stunned. "That's why she was so persistent about Shawn. Without her..." he didn't even want to finish that thought as he looked at his best friend beside him, listening to the reassuring steady beep of the heart monitor.

Henry cleared his throat after being caught up in the incredible story. "She said they have begun decreasing his drugs keeping him asleep. As long as the swelling doesn't get any worse, she will remove the stent and get him back to breathing on his own." Henry looked at his son, noting the swelling and bruising around his neck. Gus did his best to look at the parts of Shawn that still looked like Shawn, but those were few and far between. His right leg was unearthed from the blankets and his thigh was still piled with ice packs they rotated to his ankle every half hour. The incision in his thigh was wrapped and his whole leg was surrounded by padding to keep it in place. Bruising peeked out of the places not covered. His casted ankle was propped up and both Henry and Gus knew that a lime green cast was in Shawn's future.

Henry and Gus were relieved when a nurse came in to inform them that Shawn would be moved to a regular room today. Both of them had already been in the ICU for an hour and Henry had a suspicion that Dr. Hansen had pulled some strings so the rules would be slightly ignored for them. Once again, he was eternally grateful for the incredible doctor that his son was blessed with.

Gus decided to excuse himself and informed Henry that he'd give Juliet, Lassiter, and Chief Vick an update. Henry knew that Shawn's new room would probably be bustling with visitors before he knew it. His kid had that effect on people.

Until then, he was going to enjoy these few moments alone with his son, allowing the fact that Shawn could very well not be here right now sink in. He grasped Shawn's hand to ground himself, knowing that Shawn was truly in the best hands possible.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 **Extra points for anyone who got the movie reference in there!**

 **How ya feeling? Want to keep going? I don't know how you feel but I love Dr. Hansen...I know she is my character but I have never invested this much time in an OC. I promise Lassie and Jules will come in too!**

 **Pleeeaaaase review!**


	4. 3 am

**Thank you to my loyal followers. I wish I had discovered Psych fanfics when the show was still popular, but I appreciate the few of you that are still interested, you keep me going!**

 **Author's notes: The Musical was released at an odd time and the timing in the Musical was out of sequence with the show, so for all intents and purposes, Juliet and Shawn ARE together/living together in this fic...I'm pretty sure they were in the Musical, but just in case I'm wrong, here you go.**

 **Note 2.0: Remember, in this story, it has still only been about 12-14 hours since the "hanging scene." I would have brought Lassie and Jules in sooner, but I needed some more development!**

 **Movie note: The random movie reference was from Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase. When the squirrel is in the house Uncle Lewis says to Aunt Bethany, "You couldn't hear a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerine plant." as she insists she hears the squirrel squeaking, lol.**

 **For my followers waiting for Lassie and Jules to make an appearance, this one is for you.**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Juliet outstretched her arm tiredly. Out of habit, she traced her way through the silky bed sheets as she reached toward to opposite side of the bed. Her exhausted mind craved the warmth of his skin and the feeling of his breath on her forehead as she laid on his shoulder. She wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in his comforting embrace. Her hand reached its destination but recoiled when all it found was cold and empty sheets. She sat up in bed immediately and looked around the room in a panic. She was about to call out to him when her headache reminded her what had happened the past day. Being in the car with Lassiter and getting the call from Gus about Shawn was nearly enough to send her over the edge. But the fact that Shawn's near-assassin was still at large, and the fact that they had no idea who it was, kept her head in the game. She wanted to be with him, but after Gus's repeated mantra that they would not know anything for a while, she refocused her mind on hunting down whoever did this to Shawn.

She glanced at the clock, noting that she had only gained about three hours of sleep. She knew she'd need some serious coffee or else her partner would see right through her, just as he had before.

 _Lassiter rubbed a tired hand across his throbbing forehead. He looked at his partner, who absentmindedly mimicked him. Her eyes were red and puffy and she looked as if she would crumble at any moment. He knew how strong she was, but the day had been trying on both of them. He approached her cautiously. "Detective? I think we should give it a rest for now. We've chased down three separate leads all over the city and have been reviewing these files for hours. It's 2:00 am and I think we need to sleep and get started first thing. Look, the Chief told us to leave hours ago."_

 _Her shoulders sunk in defeat. "But...Shawn would have figured this out by now. We need to find out who did this...for him."_

 _"And we will." He said firmly. He put up a strong countenance but the truth was, the whole situation bothered him just as much as it did her. The fact that someone had tried to kill Shawn...No matter how much Lassiter outwardly criticized the consultant, he cared about him as one of SBPD's own. And now that the man-child was in a relationship with his partner, he had an even more important role._

 _Eventually, Juliet closed the case file and stacked it on top of the others on her desk. "You're right, Carlton. I'm just so worried."_

 _"I know. And so am I. But we aren't going to be much help if we are dead on our feet. I'll drive you home and pick you up first thing tomor-I mean today, technically, and we will figure this thing out."_

 _"Thank you." Juliet gave him a tired smile as they walked out the front doors of the nearly abandoned station._

 _Once in the car, Carlton noticed Juliet staring at her phone._

 _"You okay, O'Hara?" he asked, raising one eyebrow as he saw that she wasn't actually doing anything with the device._

 _"Um...yeah. I just...I wish I knew more about Shawn's condition. I want to see him."_

 _"I'm sure tomorrow you'll get a chance. What did they say again exactly?"_

 _"He's recovering from surgery. He's in a co-um...a medically-induced coma...to help him heal. Apparently, nothing will change for the first day or two. They even sent Gus and Henry home after just ten minutes of seeing him."_

 _"That's rough."_

 _"Yeah."_

 _Lassiter started the ignition but paused before putting the car in reverse. "He's going to be okay, you know. He's strong." He could tell how much his partner was bothered by not being able to help Shawn._

 _"I know he will. I just want to find the son of a bitch that did this to him." She looked out the window as she felt wetness build behind her eyes. Lassiter pulled out of the parking lot._

 _They arrived at Juliet's place shortly after. Before Juliet could get out, Lassiter placed a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay? You know...being alone in there?"_

 _"I'll be okay."_

 _"I didn't mean it...in that way, it's just...If someone targeted Shawn, we don't know if he might be after anyone else involved." Carlton said awkwardly._

 _"It'll be dawn in a few hours, I'll be fine. I'll call if I need anything. See you in a few hours."_

Juliet looked down sadly at the empty bed space next to her, reaching down to stroke the white cat that had made its way to snuggle at the foot of her bed. The cat usually slept on Shawn's pillow with its head leaning against him. Juliet told Shawn multiple times that he could make the cat sleep in its own bed but he refused to kick the "adorable cloud of fluffy goodness" to the ground. From then on, the cat happily slept next to the consultant's head. But now, the cat was as out of sorts as Juliet was. It meowed at her softly. "I know, I miss him too." She said as she scratched under its chin. It was only 5:40 am and after going to bed well after 2, Juliet was not feeling rested in any sense of the word. Regardless, she dragged herself out of bed and into the shower, knowing that Carlton would be arriving within the hour.

After showering, she realized that her tired brain had completely neglected to check her phone, in fact, it wasn't even charged. _Nice one, O'Hara._ She quickly plugged it in and waited for the screen to come to life. Once it did, a message from her partner came through, telling her to be ready at 6:15. The clock on the screen read 5:55 so she needed to get ready. She considered calling Gus or Henry but remembered Gus's reassurance that he would call her as soon as he found out anything. They both knew that she needed to be focused on her work instead of waiting around her phone and worrying. Still, being left in the dark was painful.

Her partner arrived right on time and came bearing coffee, which Juliet took gratefully, smirking as she read the label on her partner's cup: "4 Cr. 3 S." She shook her head, her mind unable to comprehend how such a menacing interrogator could take a coffee like that. _Only my partner._ Lassiter pulled into the familiar parking space and they both walked side by side through the doors, already searching for coffee refills. They were met by Chief Karen Vick, who motioned them toward her office. She eyed her detectives carefully.

"Did you two get _any_ sleep last night?" She sounded like she was scolding her child.

"We are fine," Lassiter answered for both of them. The Chief knew how determined everyone was to solve this case from the start, and now that their lovable consultant was caught in the middle of it only made them want to solve it even more. Most were working overtime by choice but seemed to be gaining no ground. It had still only been half a day since Shawn was attacked, but it felt like nearly a week had passed.

"Okay, we need to find out where this 'Z' is and bring him in. He's been out there too long and we don't know who else he is going to hurt or if he is the one that hurt Shawn. It seems likely since it is our only viable lead." The Chief stated.

"He _did_ punch Shawn in the woods when we were after him." Lassiter added. Juliet remained unconvinced. "Shawn thinks there's more to the story. He doesn't think Z is responsible." She announced.

"Not to be rude, O'Hara, but Shawn hasn't been in the condition to give a statement." Her partner replied.

"I'm not talking about his attack." She retorted. "He has been skeptical about the night that Z apparently murdered the critic. I think we need to look at this from a new angle."

"What exactly are you implying?" The chief asked, although already aware of where her detective was headed.

"I think we need to treat Z as the victim. I don't think he killed anyone. I think he was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What makes you say that?" Lassiter asked skeptically. He knew his partner was a damn good detective but he would be lying if he said he wasn't concerned about her mental wellbeing, given all she had been through.

"Thornton's suicide and Ben's abrasiveness and Elisa's murder...there is something not right here."

"Well, only one of those people is still alive. Let's investigate this Ben Skyler a little more closely." Karen replied.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

They had been working for about an hour when the phone in Karen's office rang. She whistled toward O'Hara and Lassiter and urgently waved her hands to make them come, the phone still pressed to her ear. They arrived and Karen clicked a button on the receiver. "Okay Gus, you're on speaker with Detectives O'Hara and Lassiter." Juliet felt her heart skip a beat.

"Gus! Is he doing okay?" She asked suddenly.

"Yes, he's doing fine right now. He will be moved to a regular room today and you can visit as soon as you get a chance. We hit a speed bump this morning but thanks to his incredible doctor he's okay."

They all let out a collective sigh. Knowing that Shawn was doing well enough to be moved to a regular room lifted a weight from everyone's chest. Gus continued, "Do you have any leads?"

"Actually, yes. We are finding out everything we can on Ben Skyler." Lassiter replied.

"He is one of the first people we met at the theatre. You know, when Shawn said that we would bring 'justice to the psycho', Ben seemed a little on edge and irritated."

"I guess it's a good place to start then, thanks to O'Hara." The Chief added.

"Let us know if anything changes, Gus. Anything." Juliet said, emphasizing every word.

"Will do. If you need any help, just call." Gus replied before ending the call.

"Alright, back to work. Let's solve this." Chief Vick announced.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

The wall clock in Shawn's room told the exhausted man uncomfortably sitting on the hard plastic chair that it was 6:00 pm, meaning the 24-hour mark since Shawn's attack had already passed. Henry was relieved that the entire day was uneventful. He knew that his son's condition would not improve rapidly, but he never realized how slow time seemed to move without his son's exuberant energy to keep things moving. He looked toward Shawn's face, the ventilator still automatically pumping oxygen into his lungs while his abused throat healed. The bruises were a myriad of colors now that stood in stark contrast with his pale features. Earlier, Dr. Hansen came in to check the contusions on Shawn's side and back. With the help of two other nurses, she gently pulled his gown to the side, revealing more dark bruises spotting throughout Shawn's ribs, back, and shoulder. She assured Henry that those would heal without any problems and that he was lucky he hadn't broken or dislocated anything else in the fall.

Gus had to finish his route and left soon after lunchtime. He figured with Shawn unable to work, he'd need the extra money until his friend healed. Although, he assumed Shawn would start solving cases as soon as he could convince the chief to hand him a case file, even from a hospital bed. Henry was fine to have the alone time, but he knew there was still one person that was dying to see Shawn.

So, when he heard the soft knock followed by the entrance of his favorite detective, Henry's spirits lifted exponentially. "Juliet." He said happily, the first time he'd felt that way in a day, as he got up (painfully) from his seat and gave her a hug. Juliet hugged him back. As they separated, Juliet's eyes fell on Shawn. Somehow, the Shawn she knew-the funloving, joking, sometimes hyperactive Shawn-had been replaced by someone that in no way could ever be her boyfriend. She approached him cautiously as Henry gave her space. This person-this broken person-was not Shawn. He was completely still, hooked up to wires and stuck with IVs and being given breaths by a machine. This couldn't be Shawn.

 _But it is. This is real. He needs you._

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and sat next to him, taking his hand in hers. Words could not describe how terrible she felt about the fact he had to go through this. People like Shawn did not deserve things like this. His carefree, loving, and protective nature made it impossible for anyone to think that he should go through this. Henry watched from a distance. He saw the heartbreak pass over Juliet's features. He knew what it felt like to be left in the unknown for hours but this was her first chance to see him in over a day. Words over the phone can only mean so much. It's the seeing that makes the whole thing real. And seeing Shawn like this wasn't easy for anyone.

Juliet's breath caught as her eyes discovered the deep bruising surrounding Shawn's neck. She couldn't shake the image of him being hanged. Although she didn't actually see it happen, her imagination filled in the blanks for her, as much as she didn't want to see it. She couldn't even begin to imagine the fear and uncertainty that Shawn was facing in those moments.

"He didn't deserve this." She whispered. Henry approached her and his son. "I know he didn't, sweetie. He is going to be okay, though. He will be back to his old self before we know it." Henry wasn't sure if he was saying it more to convince Juliet or himself. He really wanted to believe his own words, but the longer he sat next to his comatose son, the more the words were filled with empty meaning. He put a comforting hand on Juliet's shoulder. "The doctor said the swelling is going down. She is hoping to remove the stent in his trachea as soon as tomorrow or the day after. Then he can breathe on his own again." Juliet nodded. Words were too much due to the emotion suddenly running raw through her body. She was more than happy that Shawn would be okay but it still killed her that he paid such a high price for being involved in the investigation. _Nearly too high of a price._

Henry spent nearly the next half hour filling Juliet in on the details she had missed. She was absolutely horrified at the near miss that had occurred in the early hours of the morning. The fact that Shawn could've died and she could've been on the receiving end of the worst possible phone call in her life caused chills to run through her veins. But, as Henry described the actions of his doctor, Juliet was overcome with emotion knowing that someone cared for Shawn enough to risk their professional reputation. Just as Gus was, Juliet was in awe of the doctor she was yet to meet. Henry detailed his findings when he researched her and Juliet was in disbelief over her heroics.

Just as Henry finished catching Juliet up on all the details, Juliet's phone rang, her partner's number appearing on the screen.

"Carlton."

" _We've got him. He hasn't confessed but I think he can be persuaded._ "

"Oh my gosh, that's great news! I'll be down there as soon as I can."

" _Thanks to your suggestion, we were able to dig up some evidence that provides motive and places Ben at the scene of the original murder. Great work, Detective."_

"Thank you. I'll see-"

" _And um, O'Hara?"_ Lassiter interrupted.

"Yes?"

" _How is Sp...Shawn doing?"_

Juliet smiled. "He's doing okay. We are hoping for improvements over the next couple of days. I'm leaving now."

 _"Good to know. See you soon."_

Juliet nodded her thanks to Henry and gave Shawn's hand one last comforting squeeze before standing up. She leaned down and, avoiding all of the machinery surrounding him, planted a kiss on his cheek. "And I'll see you soon," she said down to the man she loved.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 **Okay, I know this chapter is a little boring, but we needed some Jules am I right? Next chapter is...wait for it...Shawn! Are you ready to get his perspective? Because I sure am. Also, Dr. Hansen will be coming back. Shawn's not out of the woods yet, there is still more to come (cue dramatic music). I really never intended for this to be so long but I'm enjoying writing it so I hope you are enjoying reading it. Sorry if the Ben thing is a little weak, it's hard to solve cases without Shawn! Lassie will elaborate some more in time :) See you soon.**

 **Please please please review.**


	5. Fever

**You all are the best. Just so you know, I update these stories in real-time, meaning it has not been pre-written. Every night I type my heart out and upload it with hopes you will read it. I love it and I take all of your thoughts and suggestions into consideration!**

 **Author's note: If you haven't noticed, every chapter is a different song title. We have had Lifehouse, Coldplay, Imagine Dragons, Matchbox 20, and now the Black Keys. The "3 am" Matchbox 20 song says "It's 3 am and I must be lonely" which was me alluding to how Jules would be feeling.**

 **Note dos: Some of Shawn's experience here is based on my own experience. No, I haven't been hanged or in a coma, but I've woken up from major surgery on multiple occasions, so I might take a few things from how it felt. However, I am still going to be creative with Shawn's perspective.**

 **Last note: This chapter is going to alternate between Shawn's and Henry's perspectives.**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

He was aware that the water rushing over him kept him from breaching the surface but for the moment, he didn't mind. He wasn't entirely sure how he ended up in water but the rushing sound that filled his ears made him forget his confusion for the moment. He couldn't remember anything. He didn't know where he was or what was happening. Normally, this unknowingness would bother the overly observant faux psychic but his brain seemed to not care for the time being. He was surrounded and consumed by darkness. As the darkness continued to invade his subconscious, his mind eventually decided it should attempt to figure out what was going on.

Awareness came slowly. The comforting water that grounded him and kept him in a contained state of oddly satisfying contentment turned to ice. The ice penetrated his skin and made a home in his core, freezing his body and ransacking him with waves of chills, leaving his mind in pure agony. With more awareness came more pain and cold. It wasn't just an "I need a light jacket" type of cold, it was a teeth-chattering, limb-shivering, tortuous type of cold that left him in a state of misery. He was _so cold_. His mind screamed at him to get out of wherever the hell he was and get warm, but as soon as he attempted to move, pain flared throughout every end of his body. The pain produced hands that reached into his mind and ripped him out of the darkness. Suddenly, the water rushing in his ears was replaced by urgent and jumbled voices. He willed his eyes to open but they were weighed down by lead. He was aware that something was covering his nose and mouth, making him feel suffocated and claustrophobic. He attempted to reach up, surprised when he felt his hand begin to defy gravity, but was again confused when he felt something strong come in contact with his arm, pushing it down and placing it next to his side. _Where am I?_

He fought his mind to let him escape this prison of darkness. Despite the pain, he willed himself to wake up. He still heard the voices. _Who are they? Why do they sound so worried?_ Another wave of chills stopped any efforts of opening his eyes and he was aware that both hands were digging into the soft surface at his sides, attempting to ride out the wave of frozen agony. The voices were closer now. _Wait, just one voice._ It sounded calm and confident. _Was that his name that was said?_ He wanted to tell the voice to take the pain away and to dig him out of the snowy embrace in which he was trapped, but before he could form the words, he felt warmth travel into the crook of his arm and snake its way through the rest of his body. The water began to lap over his shoulders. The pain dissipated and so did the cold. His mind comprehended he was going back under, and before he could protest, the water was rushing over him once again.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Henry had spent the last 60 or so hours by his son's bedside, only getting up when absolutely necessary and only going home to shower when Gus or Juliet forced him. After the initial scare that placed his son under the knife for the second time in less than a day, the next two days had been quite uneventful. The third day is when things started to get interesting. Dr. Hansen removed the stent and ventilator from Shawn's body, satisfied with the healing processes and confident that Shawn was strong enough to breathe on his own. Once Henry was able to see his son rid of the ventilator, he was filled with more hope.

For hours, he sat next to Shawn's bedside, watching his son's chest rise and fall in a gentle rhythm. He still had an oxygen mask placed on him, but Shawn was breathing under his own power, and that was all that mattered. Dr. Hansen checked in periodically, which Henry enjoyed.

"How's he doing, Mr. Spencer?" She asked as she looked at her patient.

"Well, he's still breathing on his own, so I suppose that's a good thing."

"You're right on that end. We are still weaning him off the drugs that are keeping him asleep. He could wake up today."

"Really?" Henry asked, glancing at his still-very-asleep son.

"It all depends on Shawn." She took out her penlight and checked her patient's pupil response. "His pupil reactions are better and the petechial hemorrhages are fading." She clicked off her penlight and began to straighten up, however, she stopped when her eye caught sight of something. She leaned closer to Shawn, noting that his forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. She placed her hand on it, quickly feeling the heat radiating into her gloved hand.

"Everything okay?" Henry asked, suddenly worried by her change in demeanor.

"He's beginning to run a fever. Hang on." She retrieved a thermometer. A few seconds later she read the result, "101.9."

"What does that mean? Is this normal?" Henry asked.

"Well, it is not surprising, but it still causes concern. Because Shawn had to be on the ventilator for so long, his lungs were weakened and probably developed an infection. We still have him on penicillin since his lungs had fluid in them when we brought him in. I'm hoping his body will fight it off and keep healing. We will monitor him and take the next step if necessary."

"Okay. Thank you, doctor." Henry nodded to her as she finished her evaluation. After she left, he looked down at his broken son once again. _C'mon kid, you're killing me here._ Henry was sick of seeing so many roadblocks present themselves in Shawn's path. He just wanted to see him healthy again.

Henry wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he realized he must have fallen asleep. His back protested the continued abuse from sleeping in such uncomfortable positions, but Henry blocked the discomfort from his mind. He was somewhat shocked to find that nearly four hours had passed since he last saw Dr. Hansen, but based on the blanket that had been placed over him, he figured she had visited them once or twice while he was asleep. He smiled, once again reminded of the care that Shawn's doctor had for both of them. He glanced at Shawn, who was still very much asleep. Henry could see the sweat beading on his forehead and parts of his uncovered chest. The small drops of liquid made Henry quite aware of another pressing matter. He walked stiffly and painfully toward the bathroom.

As he walked back to his son's bed, he thought he saw Shawn's fingers move. He quickened his pace and moved next to his son's side. "Shawn?" He asked, hoping he'd finally get to see the hazel eyes that had been hidden behind closed lids for so long. Shawn's fingers moved again and Henry could see that the gentle rise and fall of his chest had quickened and became irregular. "Shawn! Can you hear me?" Henry placed his hand on Shawn's forehead, shocked at the heat radiating from his skin. Henry pressed the call button beside the bed but never took his eyes off his son. He saw Shawn's hands clench into fists as his body rode out a wave of chills. Now that the drugs were wearing off, Shawn was subjected to all of the uncomfortable things they had kept at bay.

A nurse arrived and told Henry that Dr. Hansen was on her way. "What happened?" She asked while checking Shawn's vitals. Henry watched her perform her duties while he answered. "I came out of the bathroom and saw his hand move. When I came closer, he moved again. I felt his head and his fever feels pretty high. He just started having visible chills before you came in." As if on cue, Shawn's body answered with another bout of chills. He inhaled sharply and his forehead was creased in pain. Henry felt a stab of sympathy pierce his heart. He could see that his son's mind, despite still being unconscious, was fighting to figure out what was going on. He knew how stubborn Shawn was, just like himself, and for Shawn to be lost in the dark had to be more than frustrating for him. To Henry's relief, Dr. Hansen entered, immediately approaching Shawn.

"His temperature is 104.2." She said grimly. She looked down at her agitated patient as he rode out another wave of chills. A whimpered breath escaped his lips and his body kept trying to fold in on itself in reaction to the pain he was experiencing. "Anne, I need a cooling blanket in here." The nurse nodded and went to retrieve the item. "I'm going to get him started on a stronger type of antibiotic." She told Henry.

"His fever's so high...Will this stop it?" He was aware he sounded pitiful, but he didn't care. Shawn had been through enough already.

"As long as his body keeps fighting, it will." Dr. Hansen replied. "Hey, Shawn?" She attempted to rouse him but he was still trapped beneath the surface of consciousness. His breath hitched and his muscles tightened in response to the torment the fever was unleashing on him. She saw his hand reach up toward his oxygen mask but she gently guided it back to his side. "Shawn? It's going to be fine. I know you want to wake up but your body needs a little bit more time to heal, okay? I'm going to give you something to take the pain away and let your body fight the fever." The nurse had returned and placed the cooling blanket over Shawn. Dr. Hansen began setting up the second bag of antibiotics and hooked it up to one of his IV ports. Once it was set, she grabbed another vial, extracting some of the clear liquid with a syringe. She began injecting it into his other IV. She spoke to Henry. "It'll make him sleep some more and dull any pain he's experiencing." Henry nodded, still frustrated that Shawn had to go through all of this. "I'll be back to check on his fever within the hour."

Henry looked back at Shawn, whose muscles had relaxed and breathing had normalized. _You don't make this easy, do you kid?_

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Shawn was aware that time had passed, but he had no idea how much and how much time he'd spent in unawareness before he could comprehend the concept of time. He didn't feel cold anymore. However, he felt an uncomfortable clamminess surrounding his body and sticking to every surface he came in contact with. The claustrophobic thing covering his faced was replaced with an itch beneath his nose. The pain was still numbed but lurked just beneath the surface. He was afraid if he moved, he'd ignite a fire of agony that would rage throughout his body. This time, he decided to take things slow and take a mental stock of his body.

 _Okay, head?_ His head had a dull ache that beat a rhythm with his heart. It wasn't necessarily painful, but certainly annoying. _Arms?_ His arms felt okay despite a dull pain flaring from his right shoulder. His fingers felt raw and swollen. _That's strange. Legs?_ His left leg felt fine but his right... _what the hell?_ He could feel his entire leg was restricted from his hip to his toes. Another dull ache radiated from his ankle and just above his knee. _That's also strange. Uhh, what other body parts were left?_ He became impatient and attempted to move his head, immediately stopping as sharp pains screamed at him from the muscles in the back of his neck. At that moment he also became aware of the discomfort coming from the front of his neck as well. _What the hell happened?_ He tried to speak up but no sound came out and he realized everytime he swallowed, his throat felt like he was swallowing sandpaper. He was sick of not knowing why he was in this state. He willed his eyes to open. At first, he only succeeded in a blurry blink, his eyes not registering any part of the place he found himself in. It took him several more minutes to convince his eyes to open again. This time, he blinked a few times before his eyelids decided they had enough.

 _"Hey, kid. You with us?"_

 _Dad? What the hell is he doing here?_

He forced his eyes into slits, waiting for the blurred images to smooth into a clear picture.

"Shawn?" His dad's voice said from his right. He turned to the sound, but stopped with a harsh intake of air and squeezed his eyes shut as the muscles in his neck protested even the slightest movement.

"Hey, it's okay. Take it easy. Your doctor is coming."

 _Doctor?_ His eyes remained shut as he struggled to maintain his grip on consciousness.

 _"He just woke up."_

 _Woke up from what?_

 _"I think he's in pain."_

 _No shit, Sherlock._

His sarcasm quickly faded as the dulled pain decided to come front and center to his consciousness. He blinked his eyes open again, hoping he could find out what was happening and make this torturous cycle stop. He tried to speak again, but his voice refused to be heard.

"Shawn?" This time the voice came from his left. Remembering what happened the last time he moved, he made sure to only move his eyes toward the sound. Eventually, he focused his eyes as much as they allowed on the blurred figure to his left. "I'm Dr. Hansen. I've been taking care of you." Her voice faded in and out with his vision. "Do you know where you are?" He was about to nod but grimaced as he felt his muscles scream at him to stop. "Just blink once for yes, two for no." He blinked once through slitted, bleary eyes. "Good. I'm going to check your vitals. Can you stay awake for me?" He blinked again. He shifted his eyes to his right and saw the shape of his father sitting overly close to him. _Why is he holding my arm?_

"D-" he began to say but broke into a painful coughing fit. He became aware that his chest felt incredibly tight. Intaking a breath became overly difficult and before he knew what happened, a memory forced its way into his mind as if it had been waiting for the opportune moment to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. _The feeling of rough rope tightening before pulling him off the ground. It's suffocating grip relentless, his hope of survival diminishing, he was dying._

 _"Shawn!"_

 _He was losing his last grip on consciousness, losing his chance of walking away, losing those he loved._

 _"Shawn! Relax! You're okay!"_

 _Am I...okay?_

He mentally forced himself to slow his breathing and blink his eyes open again, realizing that what he was experiencing was just a figment of his memory. One of the many downsides of an eidetic memory is that he couldn't forget anything, no matter how much he wanted to. He came to the harsh realization that someone had actually tried to kill him. _Explains the hospital._ He locked eyes with his dad as his eyes focused more clearly.

"You remember what happened?" Shawn blinked, and based on his father's expression, he could tell that he wasn't succeeding in hiding the unfiltered fear that was still running through his mind. Dr. Hansen came back into Shawn's view. "I'm going to ask you to do a few things, okay?" He blinked. She placed two fingers in his left hand and instructed him to squeeze. He complied. "Good, Shawn. Okay, now the other one." He squeezed per her request. She moved to the foot of his bed and stroked her pen across the bottom of his foot. "Did you feel that?" He blinked again, satisfied that he was feeling more awake, but frustrated that his voice would not cooperate. He still had so many questions. He looked to his dad for guidance again and motioned with his right hand.

"Think you can manage that?" Henry asked. Shawn met his eyes with a blink, one that appeared more determined than the others. Henry turned to Dr. Hansen. "Can we get him a pen and paper?" She nodded and left the room for a minute, returning with the desired items. Shawn felt his lips curl upwards slightly. Once he received the pen and paper, his eyes struggled to focus and his fingers felt oddly numb but he decided to go with it. He turned the paper to his father, who gave him a look that Shawn wasn't entirely sure the meaning was behind it. But, Shawn felt a weight lift from his chest when his dad then smiled and nodded affirmatively.

 _Thank God._

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Henry's mind went through a rollercoaster of emotions as his son woke up for the second time. His oxygen mask had been replaced by a nasal cannula and he was more than relieved that his fever broke, but he knew Shawn's mind was still fighting unseen demons. This became painfully obvious when Shawn struggled to catch his breath. Henry's heart broke as he watched Shawn's hands go to his neck, fighting the rope that was no longer there, as his lungs refused to inhale the proper amount of air. He knew his son was reliving the night of his attack for the first time in excruciatingly accurate detail. After a few moments, he regained his composure and locked eyes with his own, the fear still residing behind the hazel orbs.

Henry allowed Dr. Hansen to perform her tests. After she finished, Henry saw that Shawn was trying to communicate something. He knew his throat would be uncooperative for awhile, and he knew what his son wanted. He requested a pen and paper so his son could finally ask the questions that were undoubtedly plaguing his mind. Henry would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised by the first question scratched into the notepad. He assumed Shawn would ask what happened or if the case was solved, but his question was entirely different and unexpected.

 _"Is everyone else okay?"_

Henry admired his son at that moment. He nodded with a smile and saw the relief wash over Shawn's features. _Here he is with more broken things than one can count and he's worried about others._ Shawn presented another note.

 _"See them?"_

"They will all come by later. Gus is finishing up work while Lassiter and Juliet are wrapping up the case. Do you know who did this to you?" Shawn shook his head with as little movement as possible but still winced. Before Henry could answer, Shawn held up a finger to stop him which he then placed to his head, closing his eyes. Henry took that as an opportunity to roll his. He swore he could see the cogs turning in Shawn's mind and within seconds, he scratched another note.

" _Ben?"_

"Are you kidding? How...?" Henry asked in disbelief. Shawn replied with his finger to his head again, eliciting another eye roll from Henry. Despite Shawn's few moments of lucidity, Henry could tell he was fading once again. Before his son lapsed back into unconsciousness, he offered him the ice chips a nurse had graciously brought. Once again, Shawn nodded with as little movement as possible but his eyes lit up as he eyed the icy goodness heading his way. Henry saw him swallow with a grimace, but both of them knew they would help him heal. "Son, I know you are exhausted. It's okay to sleep, I'll be here and when you wake up everyone else will be here too. Do you need anything?" He asked as Shawn's blinks got slower and longer. He turned the paper away from Henry and began writing with intense focus. _Is he writing a paragraph?_ Shawn presented his note to Henry, which Henry analyzed and immediately shook his head at. He looked back to his son, who was now completely asleep, and back to the note.

In explicit detail was a pen-drawn pineapple staring back at Henry, complete with a smiley face. For all his son had been through, at least he still hung on to his humor, despite the haunting images that hid behind his subconscious. He folded the paper and placed it in his wallet as a memento, knowing with absolute certainty that _several_ pineapple smoothies were in his kid's future.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 ***Laughs nervously as the chapters continue to get longer and I keep realizing there is more to write* But, Shawn is awake! (kinda?). I know you want interaction between Dr. Hansen and Shawn and I promise it's coming, along with more Gus and Lassie and Jules, as long as you are still interested! Thank you for your reviews, keep them coming!**


	6. Reunion

**Hi...so sorry about the delay. My computer decided to completely die on me so I am typing this on my phone.**

 **Author's note: this chapter will be from various POVs and any mistakes are mine.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own them**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

The following morning, Gus had the day off due to the double coverage route he performed the day prior. He wanted to see Shawn that night, but after talking to Henry and learning Shawn would probably sleep for the rest of the night, they both decided it would be best to come the next day. He was eager to see his friend finally awake and able to communicate. Being without Shawn's antics and sarcasm and dramatics seriously put a damper on Gus's life. So, when he arrived at Shawn's room and stepped inside, he was more than thrilled to see him sitting upright and lucid.

"Shawn!" He beamed as he approached his best friend and Henry, who was starting to look slightly worse for wear.

"Hey buddy." Shawn said tiredly with a smile. His voice was barely audible and didn't sound like it came from Shawn, but Gus knew that was to be expected. He was aware that the day before, Shawn couldn't speak at all, so he was glad to see him making progress. The bruises around his neck were still evident but fading. As expected, Shawn's soft cast was replaced with a lime green one from his knee to his toes and the rest of his leg was cushioned with a brace to his hip. It looked terribly uncomfortable, and he once again felt the crushing realization of what Shawn went through. His best friend picked up on it, because Gus was shaken from his thoughts when he spoke up.

"Hey, it's not too bad. Just think about how many episodes of CHiPs we can watch over the next couple of weeks."

"You got that right." He said as he sat down in the familiar plastic chair. He realized that Shawn's prior statement was his way of making Gus feel better, which Gus realized was ridiculous, because _he_ should be the one having sympathy for _Shawn._ He knew Shawn's comforting nature was often under-appreciated, usually shadowed by his exhuberant personality. Gus was always blown away by his best friend's selflessness when it came to serious matters. He really didn't know what he would do if Shawn hadn't made it after the past few days. He dispelled the thoughts from his head, knowing that his living, breathing friend was here and that was all that mattered. He looked toward the tired man on the other side of the bed, wondering if he had gotten any sleep ever since he was called back to the hospital days ago.

"So, when is he getting out of here?" Gus asked.

"The doctor wants to continue to monitor him for blood clots." Shawn made a face of disgust, still somewhat unaware of the outwright panic he caused in the early hours of that fateful morning. "But, if he continues to improve-"

" _He_ is right here." The raspy voice stated, then coughed, before reaching for the water placed on the table beside him. Henry gave him a look of impatience as he intentionally and noisily slurped the water.

Henry continued, "We are hoping he can go home in the next few days."

Gus turned to Shawn. "Have you seen Juliet yet?" He saw Shawn's features darken. He shook his head slightly. "I was asleep."

"She will be by soon, kid." Henry said with a hand to his son's shoulder. He stood up and nodded to Gus, deciding it was time to give the two childhood friends some time to catch up. Gus turned to Shawn, who still had a troubled look plastered on his face. Usually, Shawn had a talent for hiding how he felt, but Gus figured his ordeal and exhaustion made the faux psychic unable to put up his usual front.

"You'll get to see her soon, Shawn." Gus said, knowing full and well that Shawn felt guilty for putting Juliet through this. "She's strong, buddy."

"Yeah...I just..." Shawn faded into his thoughts. Gus could see that he was remembering what happened, but he had no idea to what extent. "I need you to tell me what happened that night. You were the only one there. I...I can't remember all that much after..." he gestured to his neck, indicating the rope that was forcefully wrapped around it.

"You sure?" Gus asked, suddenly feeling his heart rate quicken.

"Yes."

"Okay, well I heard you yell and came out to see you, um, hanging from that rope. I was trying to make it down the stairs but before I even made it, Yang had cut the rope and you fell. I got to you and called 911. When they got there, you had stopped breathing and they rushed you here." Gus said, hating every moment he had to relive the nightmare.

Shawn was silent for a few seconds. "I was convinced I was going to die. My last thoughts were about all of you." Gus felt as if someone had reached into his chest and pulled out his still-beating heart. Of course during the last moments Shawn thinks he will ever get to live he thinks of those he loves. Gus knew he was truly lucky to have Shawn as his best friend. He just hated that Shawn put so much responsibility on himself. _He wasn't scared about dying, he was scared about how we would react._ Gus knew he had to bring Shawn out of this guilt-filled memory. "Shawn, the only thing that matters is that you are alive, thanks to Dr. Hansen. Have you met her, by the way?"

"Yeah, for a bit. My dad told me about her. Dude, she's awesome." Gus smiled as he saw the darkness fade from Shawn's eyes. "I think she could take down Lassie in a fight, what do you think?" He smirked, his mind easing back into the present.

"I don't think my superiors would appreciate their trauma surgeon engaging in hand-to-hand combat with a Santa Barbara detective." A voice said as it entered the room.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Dr. Hansen entered her patient's room, noticing the surprised look on both of the men's faces. "Sorry, am I interrupting your fantasy fight league?"

"No, no. We were, uh..." Gus stammered.

"Gus, relax. You're acting like she caught us passing notes in the third grade." Shawn said to his defensive friend. Dr. Hansen was more than happy to see Shawn's true personality begin to show. She knew his throat was still sore and the rest of his body still had time to heal, but overall, she was pleased to see his progress continue to move forward. Once his fever broke and all serious threats to his health were evaded, she felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders. It was a weight that had crushed her for years, although she was in denial of its existence for so long. She felt that Shawn was brought into her E.R. for a specific reason. She was there to save him and in more ways than one, he saved her. He could have been taken to another hospital that day, but he was brought here, and for that she was thankful. She felt tremendous care for each and every one of her patients, but she knew Shawn was special.

"So, Shawn," she addressed the still-smirking faux psychic, "how are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm glad I can actually talk to you now, sort of." He said, stifling another dry cough.

"And how's your leg?" She asked, moving to that side of his bed.

"I never went to med school, but it appears to be broken." He met her disapproving gaze with a childish look of innocence. She knew his defense mechanism. _Slather the situation with sarcasm and hope it sticks._ But she could see right through him.

"So, it's still about an 8 for pain then?" She asked, her no-nonsense countenance contrasting his mischievous one.

"4."

"Shawn."

"Fine." He sighed, "7..." she gave him her most intimidating look she could until he gave in. "...point 9."

His friend gave him a light slap on the arm. "Shawn, you can't lie to your doctor."

"It's not lying...it's just not the whole truth." Shawn defended.

"That's still lying. And no, you have not heard it both ways." Gus rebutted. Shawn clicked his tongue in response. Dr. Hansen enjoyed watching the two banter. Every second Shawn seemed like himself was good for everyone. Every single person close to Shawn had been through a lot over the past few days.

"Alright, I'm going to give you a slight increase of pain meds to dull that throbbing in your leg." She saw Shawn's features turn serious and concerned. "It's okay. This is a weaker drug and it shouldn't affect you like the others did."

Gus turned to her and at the same time, Henry returned. "What do you mean 'affect you like the others did?'" He looked back to his friend. It was evident that Shawn refrained from sharing the events of the previous night with him.

"Well, that's up to Shawn if he wants to share." Dr. Hansen said.

Suddenly Shawn looked slightly guilty and embarrassed. He looked at his father and gave him a nod of approval. Henry returned to his seat next to his son's bed and explained the previous night's happenings. "The pain medication he was on started giving him horrible headaches. His fever had broken at this point, but he was hallucinating and more medication only made his headache worse."

"We've been trying to find a good balance of medication that isn't too strong. Some medication can make people _think_ they are having headaches, but it's a trick. This is what can lead to addiction." Dr. Hansen said. "So far, the headache has been under control, right Shawn?" He nodded and looked at Gus.

"I was going to tell you."

"It's okay, buddy. Don't worry about me. I know there's a lot on your mind."

Dr. Hansen did not know the two of them very well, but she could tell they had great care for each other. She was glad that Shawn was surrounded by so many people who truly cared about him, despite his idiosyncrasies.

"Anyway Shawn, everything is looking really good. You'll be going home before you know it." He beamed. What she purposely left out was that he would most certainly be going home with his father for at least the first week. It wasn't just Shawn's physical limitations that worried her, she knew behind his outer layer of humor and lightheartedness hid demons that would take time to overcome. But overall, she was optimistic about his recovery. She left her patient's room, bumping into two familiar faces entering. One of them brandished a cool, hardened look while the other radiated days of worry. Once both of them caught sight of Shawn, relief was evident in both features, however. This showed Dr. Hansen that Shawn had a talent for finagling his way into anyone's heart. She left the group to enjoy their reunion.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

When Juliet finally saw Shawn awake for the first time, she nearly sprinted to him. Gus wisely moved out of her way as she ran to Shawn's side. Once she was close enough, his hands were placed on both cheeks and he was smiling while gazing into her eyes. She could feel his gaze almost having a warming effect on her body. She had longed to see those eyes. She could see the IV snaking from his arm and was worried about hurting him in any way. But before she could move back, he pulled her into a tight embrace, surprising her with the strength he showed. She was bent awkwardly but allowed her head to fall on his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his back. Again, it was an awkward position, but it was exactly what they both needed. Before separating completely, they kissed for a few seconds more than their audience needed, but neither cared. Juliet kept his hand in hers as she sat in Gus's prior seat, who was now standing next to Lassiter. Henry had stood up as well, joining them both near the doorway to give them semi-privacy.

"It's good to finally see you." She said. She couldn't tell who was happier about their reunion. All she knew was that her life finally made sense again, for the most part.

"God, I've missed you." He said, squeezing her hand.

"Not as much as Snowball missed you." She said, referring to her cat that was overly fond of her boyfriend. He looked incredibly happy. _So_ much better than any time she had seen him over the past few days. They didn't need to say anything to confirm how they were both feeling. Their relationship didn't need the affirmation of words. The contact between them told them all they needed to know.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Shawn brought Juliet's hand to his lips, kissing it fondly and taking in the familiar and comforting scent of the woman he loved. He was in complete bliss. Despite still being in the hospital and still in uncomfortable pain, having everyone here, especially and finally Juliet, was all he needed to make him feel a thousand times better. He wasn't ready to talk to Juliet about what was running through his mind while he was attacked. He would tell her eventually, but he wanted to enjoy this pure moment. He became aware that an awkward bunch of three men remained huddled by the doorway.

"Hey, Three Musketeers, we don't bite." He announced to them, his throat protesting every word. All of them returned to his side and sat down on the extra chairs that were brought in. Normally, he liked having all of the attention on him, but having everyone stare at him like some type of museum exhibit was awkward even for him. However, he knew that by seeing him awake and alive, it took a lot of days of sheer stress off their shoulders. He had no idea what it was like for them to go through that, and frankly, he felt terrible they had to suffer while he was balancing between life and death. Like with Juliet, he knew there would be more time to talk about the severity of the situation, but for now, he wanted to enjoy the moment of togetherness and put their minds at ease.

"So Lassie," he addressed the detective, "Gus here thinks you'd get your ass handed to you by a girl..."

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 **Leaving off the chapter with unfinished banter? Well, you can fill in the blanks. It is Shawn's attempt at normalizing their situation since the guy is always looking out for others. This would have been up much sooner but I apologize for the technical difficulties. I'm thinking maybe one or two more chapters? It's difficult to get in everyone's POV.**

 **I'm loving your feedback and I appreciate it so much. I'm eventually going to put up a poll on what my next fic should be. Maybe Lassiter and Shawn trapped in an interesting situation? Or another tag to an episode? Maybe one that is Juliet/Shawn focused? You decide!**


	7. Home

**Still typing on my phone--thanks for your patience!**

 **Let's wrap it up!**

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Dr. Hansen looked at her peacefully sleeping patient. The flurry of visitors sapped his energy and since he wouldn't admit it, she suggested they all go home for the night. They were tentative to oblige, but knowing Shawn would be going home soon gave them the security they needed to leave. Looking at the wall clock made her realize she had been sitting next to Shawn longer than she intended. She had many patients and could be called into surgery at any moment. She also know that this job was typically reserved for the staff of nurses but for some reason, she found herself in this patient's room more often than not.

She saw his jaw tighten and the creases in his forehead sharpen. He sucked in a short breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He was still asleep, but she could see he was caught within the throes of one of his nightmares. Just as his hand subconsciously reached for his neck, she grasped it within her own.

"Hey, Shawn." She said gently while supplying firm pressure to his hand. He fought against her grip and his heart rate quickened. She remained calm and squeezed his hand again. "Shawn, wake up. It's only a dream." His brows crinkled in confusion but he began taking more normal breaths. She saw his eyes blink open, his dark lashes finally giving way to his bleary eyes. "Jul--" he stopped as his eyes traveled from her hands to her face. She felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing that anytime he faced this nightmare, he woke up confused and worried.

She made sure she was eye level with him. "It's Dr. Hansen. Everyone went home for the night so you could get some sleep, remember?" He blinked a few times. "I always remember." There was a pause. "Everything." His eyes left her gaze and traveled down to his hands.

"I know it's hard, Shawn. But you've got so many people that care about you to help you through this. After my brother died, I turned away from my family for months. I buried myself in books to distract me from my pain. I couldn't face them. I couldn't look at my brothers without seeing the disappointment in their eyes. Every time I closed my eyes I was taken back to that day." She said honestly.

"Do you still see it?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, sometimes. It's one of those things that never goes away really. But I've found I no longer have to be crushed by that memory." She felt the familiar tightness in her throat. She wasn't about to cry because of the memory, but instead because she realized she now had the ability to help someone with a similar pain. That weight that had crushed her for so long continued to be alleviated with her interactions with Shawn. Because of him, she realized the power she now held. "It hurts at first, but once I talked to my family about what happened and how I felt, I found that I had more support than I realized."

"What you went through is unimaginable." He said and she could see the sadness lurking in his eyes. "But I'm really glad you became a surgeon." He smiled at her. She assumed it was his way of giving thanks.

"So am I." She replied.

They sat in amiable silence for a few moments. Shawn starting fiddling with one of the monitors. While still eyeing the device, he spoke to her. "You know this will sound ridiculous, but I could hear you. Maybe...maybe it's my imagination, but I have memories of the darkness where I could hear your voice."

"Well I do speak to my patients throughout the whole process of caring for them. None have ever told me this, though."

"You really kept me from going over the edge." He said. Dr. Hansen straightened back in the chair. "Anyway, thank you. For everything. I mean, I am not known to be the serious-conversation type, but here we are. You really went above and beyond to take care of me and I know that I, as well as my family and friends, are more than thankful for that."

"There's no need to thank me, Shawn. You've helped me in more ways than you'll ever know." She placed her hand on his and he gave her a true smile. "Now get some more sleep, alright?" She patted his hand and stood up, leaving her patient to his own thoughts, content that they would eventually cease to haunt him.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

Three days laters, Shawn was sitting upright in bed, faced with the daunting task of transferring from his bed to a wheelchair. His father and Gus attempted to help, but all of their brains appeared to be running on conflicting channels. Lassiter and Juliet watched with amusement. Despite the theatrics, everyone was excited. Shawn was going home today.

"Oh my God people, it's not like I need to be carried." The faux psychic said to his incompetent companions.

"You're not that far off, buddy." Gus replied to his equally incompetent friend.

Henry interrupted, "You need to shift so you're actually facing us."

"Gee, thanks Dad. I would have never guessed that." The snarky reply came.

"Alright, you want to do this by yourself?" The gruff voice questioned. At that, Shawn painted a pathetic and helpless look on his face. "But how will I ever get to go home without your help, Papa Bear?" He even curled his bottom lip for emphasis. Henry rolled his eyes.

"Here Shawn, we will support you on each side and you can stand on your left foot. Just do a slight turn and we will lower you down."

"Yes, finally. Reasonable Gus has arrived, everyone!" Shawn announced to no one in particular. "Okay let's do it."

Henry and Gus gripped Shawn's arms and hoisted him to his feet, or foot, technically. He closed his eyes as the room swayed like the times before, but he adjusted quickly. Henry and Gus helped maneuver Shawn just in front of the waiting wheelchair and gently lowered him into a sitting position, making sure his right leg was resting on the outstretched part.

"Lassie, are you gonna push me?" Shawn asked mischievously. Lassiter glared at him. "Oh, I'm sorry Spencer, does me being here make me think I want to become your personal slave? Think again, or else I'm pushing you down the biggest hill in Santa Barbara." Shawn attempted to look hurt, but failed when the smirk of satisfaction tugged at his lips. Juliet elbowed her partner in the arm and Henry began pushing his son out of their unplanned hotel room.

They made a brief stop at the front desk for some unclaimed paperwork and as they were about to leave, the familiar door opened and Dr. Hansen approached. "Leaving without an official goodbye?"

"I'm not leaving, I'm being kidnapped by this crazy bald man." Shawn said innocently, gesturing to his "kidnapper." "But, if I am allowed to leave, I suppose I can say my official goodbye now."

Dr. Hansen shook everyone's hand and told them she was thrilled that Shawn would be back to normal before they knew it. All of them felt a deep connection to the doctor. All of them were amazed by her actions and her history. None of them could really put into words how lucky they were to have her. Without her, Shawn may not be with them right now. They finished their goodbyes and Shawn was wheeled to the waiting car.

"Shotgun!" He yelled.

Gus clicked his tongue in response. "Man."

Once they were settled, Henry looked at the two friends. He still saw them as the children he'd drive to games back in the day. "Ready to go home?" He asked.

"Hell no!" Shawn said. Henry gave him an incredulous look. "Not before smoothies, at least."

"I hear that." Gus said as he reached toward the front of the car with his fist and without looking, Shawn met it with his own.

For what felt like the millionth time, Henry rolled his eyes. However, he turned out of the parking lot and toward the desired destination. He was just happy to still have a son to annoy him. The tension in his chest fizzled and disappeared as he caught sight of his son playing the air drums in the seat next to him. He wasn't 100% yet, but Henry was happy that with all the support around his son, he'd be back to himself in no time.

PSYCH~PSYCH~PSYCH

 **This story ended up being so much longer than I ever planned. I hate ending stories because I never know the proper way to do so. If you have stuck with me this long, thank you! I hope you enjoyed it. Maybe we will have to see Dr. Hansen in the future?**

 **Please review (one last time!)**


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